seen and heard: tedXmanhattan

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the TEDxManhattan conference, Changing the Way We Eat, at the Times Center in New York City. The day started off with “Issues”, primarily focusing on the health and ecological risks of industrial meat production (the quick and dirty : even if you don’t feel any compassion for farm animals, the conditions in which they are raised – and the lack of suitable regulation of these conditions – are heading us in the direction of both antibiotic-resistant epidemics and food insecurity on a global scale).  My favorite talk of the morning,  however, was Urvashi Rangan’s “Labeling and the Controversy Around it”.

Rangan humorously guided us through the debacle that is food labeling in America.  Natural is boundless; it can be defined by companies at will and most certainly does not equate with Organic.  Free range means that animals were provided the “opportunity” to spend time outdoors, but it in no way ensures that these animals spent time outside of a barn or pen.  And then there are the labels that should exist and don’t.  For example, No Carbon Monoxide.  Supermarket meat is often treated with CO to preserve its red color.  In fact, tests have proven that CO can even preserve the red color of meat after it has spoiled.  The list of crazy, illogical examples goes on and on. (To learn more about Rangan and her work, click here.)

In the second session, “Impact”, we heard about a range of topics, from the importance of preserving our soil, to new programs for training and supporting immigrant farmers, to the impact of gardens on the rehabilitation of veterans, to the fruits of Green Bronx Machine’s edible labors.  But, unsurprisingly, the talk which most sparked my interest was food journalist Mitchell Davis’ evocation of the importance of taste.  Davis highlighted that we are in a unique period in history, one in which our ideals and our perception of taste have aligned.  Some of us buy tomatoes from farmers markets because of their unequaled flavor and texture.   Others shop at the market to support small farmers and ecological interests.  While these two groups’ motivations do not overlap (though there are certainly individuals who belong to both categories), the results of their actions are the same.   Davis argues that we not only can, but also should, use the edible enticement of “good taste” as a central argument in the sustainable food revolution.

The final session of the day, “Innovation”, addressed programs and products that have begun to address issues in our food systems in a creative and sustainable way.  RealTimeFarms.com helps consumers decode the “local” label touted by do-gooder restaurants, mapping the farms from which chefs are purchasing their featured ingredients.  Recirculating farms are creating the opportunity to grow veggies and raise fish in any climate, with minimal waste and water usage (If I ever get a bigger apartment, I am totally buying one of these for my own home). Fresh Paper, an organic, biodegradable, oil-infused paper inspired by Indian medicinal spices, promises to prolong the life of your produce.  And Bright Farms is building greenhouses on top of your local supermarket/food distribution center – providing more local produce, for less money than ever before.

It’s hard to choose which of the “Innovations” was my favorite, but the one that really hit home was the New York City GreenCarts program.  While those who live near Union Square may revel in their greenmarket, there are neighborhoods in New York that are veritable food deserts, served solely by bodegas, where no fresh produce is available.  GreenCarts is overturning that status quo, encouraging community members to start their own businesses and serve their community – one orange or banana at a time.

If you missed TEDxManhattan and would like to learn more about the interesting and inspiring work that was presented, the event organizers will be posting videos of the day’s talks online within the month.  The talks from 2011’s TEDxManhattan are already available here.

Or for those who prefer the “famous” foodies, here are a few of my favorite TED Talks by gastro-celebrities:

• Mark Bittman, “What’s Wrong With What We Eat?” [ted id=263]
• Jaime Oliver, “Teach Every Child About Food” [ted id=765]

ordinary pleasures : café culture

As an undergraduate, I often spent my time in between classes at coffee shops on campus.  On occasion, I made genuine attempts at academic progress, but in truth, anyone trying to work was better off in the dorms or the library.  The coffee shop, in essence, was a not-so-subtle locale to see and be seen.  There I’d sit - staring at the same page, rereading the same line - hoping that my crush-of-the-moment would happen upon me nonchalantly reading Rilke.  (As if the average undergraduate male actually cared what the heck I was reading).

But a true café - that European or Europhilic wonder of the world - resembles neither the collegiate coffee shop (a slightly less commercial variant of your local Starbucks) nor a silent study hall.  It has a character all its own - charmingly unchanging despite generations of regulars, who ultimately leave it high-and-dry after an intense stint of unflinching fidelity.  It’s a quiet, yet buzzing corner of the world, best suited to the grad student, youthful researcher or urban creative - thinkers entrenched in their own ideals and interests, both incensed and mellowed by the fog of sleepless nights.

Which brings me to the subject of sustenance.  Some café creatures seem to live on black coffee alone.  Others drift towards cigarettes or café crèmes.  But my favorite cafés are those who provide a little something more to chew on (as endless hours of reading seem to have a way of cultivating oral fixations).

In Paris, my café of choice was the Café Maure at the Grand Mosquée de Paris.  Built in the years following World War I, La Grande Mosquée remains the only official mosque in Paris, despite the significant growth of the capital’s Muslim population.  The mosque itself is typically closed to all but the faithful, but on the corner of Rue Daubeton and Rue Geoffroy-Saint-Hilaire, a Moorish archway invites the curious in - to sip sweet mint tea, smoke hookah or nibble on honey-laden pastries under the shade of fig trees. There I would spend many an afternoon, induling in Kaab el Ghazal (half-moon pastries perfumed with orange flower water) and reading French philosophy).

Back in New York, there’s no shortage of cafés worth frequenting in the city, but unlike Paris, those worth lingering in are a bit harder to come by.  Morningside Heights' Hungarian Pastry Shop is one of these rare gems, located just outside the thumping heart of Columbia’s main campus.

The leaner (and thriftier) among us will rave about Hungarian's free refills, but my indulgence of choice is their baklava – honey soaked and nutty as the day is long, somehow simultaneously flaky and densely chewy. (When I worked at Columbia, the walk home past Hungarian was treacherous.  The only thing that saved me from poverty-by-pastry was the fact that the desserts are not quite viewable from the window).  And with an ambiance fitting of an old Woody Allen film (or Love Story, if the protagonists had attended Columbia), there’s enough 1970s flair to sustain the whole neighborhood’s charm.

True, it can be hard to find a seat here – but in warmer months the sculpture garden at St. John the Divine (just across the street) is an enviable extension of HP’s café culture.  At worst, if it’s too cold or crowded to stay, they’ll wrap you up a snack in an old-timey paper box with striped pastry string.  An adorable consolation prize for your efforts.

eater's digest: owen's fish camp

Relaxation (see: “beach vacation”) is not something I do well.  So when my parents requested - for the second year in a row - that we spend our Christmas break on the warmer shores of Florida, I begrudgingly acquiesced, mumbling something under my breath about strip-malls and the “dearth of culture”. But this year, my mother was out to prove me wrong, selecting Sarasota – home to the Ringling estate and museum, as well as the “Best Beach in America”.  It may have taken a few days (and some sifting through local food/travel publications) for me to settle in and truly enjoy myself, but eventually I came round – most notably, due to the literally and figuratively fresh dining scene we discovered in this beach community just south of Tampa.  (And yes, my mother is reading this, all too happy with my public declaration that she “told me so”).

Owen’s Fish Camp sits in an eclectic corner of downtown Sarasota, under the bows of an imposing banyan tree.  Across from a remarkable antiques shop and next door to an art gallery, the vibe is decidedly “trendy bayou”, with patrons in shorts and stilettos alike.

Waiting outside Owen’s is one of the most pleasant aspects of the restaurant.  The quaintly campy outdoor patio features a number of well-curated tchotchkes, including a life-sized, under-shirted “local” in a lawn chair.  The aforementioned antiques shop and art gallery also (wisely) leave their doors open late, reinforcing the laid-back block-party vibe.

Those who choose to grab a drink will find a light-hearted wine list (selections designated as “Good”, “Decent”, or “Cheap”), a solid beer selection and respectable cocktails.  That was where I also first spotted the absolutely delectable-looking pecan pie (more on that later).

I was seated with my family in the restaurant’s back room, oars hanging overhead.  Old-fashioned condiments dressed the table, and the menu was appropriately, a paper placemat.  The offerings were inspired by classic southern seafood, from cornmeal battered catfish to a softshell crab BLT.  We ordered both as entrees, as well as a shrimp basket, with a fried green tomato salad and clam chowder to start.

The starters were remarkable, almost the best part of the meal.  The cornmeal-crusted FGTs (fried green tomatoes) were served over arugula and romaine with chevre chaud, crisped country ham, cucumber, red onion, and an herb-buttermilk dressing.  Light, refreshing and impossible to resist – this was hands-down the best savory item we ate.  The creamy chowder was also noteworthy, with an almost lobster bisque-y flavor (enhanced by applewood bacon) and chock-full-of-clams.

Even compared with that rousing first round, our entrees proved to be excellent.  The shrimp basket arrived light and piping hot, with thin fries begging to be dressed with malt vinegar.  Crunching through the cornmeal crust, the catfish was flaky and fresh, almost shockingly moist.  And the sandwiched softshell poked out from its bun, spicy, tangy, “crabby” and undeniably indulgent.  But let’s not forget the savory sides, most especially the vinegar-y collards and robust, smoky succotash.

After all this soul-warming southern cooking, I could have easily bypassed dessert – but then again, I had already spotted the pecan pie.  We ordered this and the deep-fried blackberry pies, flaky half-moon dessert “pierogies” that sounded promising but lacked a true pie’s high fruit-to-crust ratio.  The pecan pie, however, was the very best item of the evening, a seemingly simple tart of pecans and honey, topped with homemade whipped cream.  The crust wasn’t overcooked, nor the nuts over-sweetened.  In fact, even my dessert-disdaining sister dove back in for seconds.

As we strolled out of the fish camp into the chilly (for Florida) night air, I knew this was hands-down the best meal I’d ever eaten in the popular coastal state.  Jumping on the moment of opportunity, my mother turned and asked, “Would you visit if we lived here a few months a year?”  In my satisfied stupor, I couldn’t help but murmur “yes, but make it Sarasota.”

Owen's Fish Camp 516 Burns Court, Sarasota, FL 941.951.6936 (no reservations accepted)